


you're right, I don't like girls

by wow_im_tired



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, My First Fanfic, One-Sided Attraction, Or Is he?, Period-Typical Homophobia, Self-Hatred, Tags will be added, Will is a Mess, but will is the only dork in love with the other dork, sorry if it's bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 10:33:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19851337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wow_im_tired/pseuds/wow_im_tired
Summary: Why did Mike have to go and be so pretty anyway? With his stupid dark curls, dumb bright eyes, ridiculous gangly limbs. The dusting of freckles along the bridge of his nose and collarbone. The ability to make Will feel all fluttery inside by watching him make a fool of himself to get a laugh out of Will. His dopey smile when he did manage to get a breathless laugh, no matter how little. The times that Mike hugged him close after another episode of his, feeling his heartbeat and warmth against Will’s own body. How Will is utterly in lo-............Will Byers is a mess. A lovable mess, but a mess nonetheless. He has fallen for a boy that won't love him back, he is constantly afraid of what others think of him and now is everything his father and bullies call him. Why can't everything just go back to the way it was when they were little? He never would have fallen in love with his best friend if he had any say in the matter!first fic, it's short and im sorry :/





	you're right, I don't like girls

**Author's Note:**

> howdy, this is my first fic so I hope its okay!! I just really love Will Byers and wrote about him, and who doesn't enjoy a bit of one-sided love? that hurts the most. any comments or feedback would be cool! k bye :)

Will is not feeling good. That’s an understatement, he feels really bad. Like, punched-in-the-gut-with-a-knife bad. But everywhere is your gut and the knife is feelings. It’s understandable really, given that he had just come to terms with himself moments ago. Himself being gay, and that being falling your best friend in seconds. 

Ughhh. Everything was just a mess. 

Blankets drowned the small frame of the boy as Will pulled them over his head. He felt like a child again, hiding from the monsters under the bed. But now the monsters were real. They were in his head. Oh, and not to forget the Upside Down. That shit was the real monster.

It was late. He really should be sleeping. It was a school night… Oh well, a few hours sleep would be enough to function, right? He hoped so.

Will’s mind felt strangled from thinking. Wrung out from the self-awakening he had during the summer break. A long time coming really.  
Why did Mike have to go and be so pretty anyway? With his stupid dark curls, dumb bright eyes, ridiculous gangly limbs. The dusting of freckles along the bridge of his nose and collarbone. The ability to make Will feel all fluttery inside by watching him make a fool of himself to get a laugh out of Will. His dopey smile when he did manage to get a breathless laugh, no matter how little. The times that Mike hugged him close after another episode of his, feeling his heartbeat and warmth against Will’s own body. How Will is utterly in lo-

Tugging angrily at his crooked bowl cut, further putting it out of place, Will scrunched his eyes. Breathe. In for four seconds, out for seven. Stop thinking about it. His chest ached. It’s wrong and you know it. But what if-- What? It’s your own fault for thinking like this. Should have played more sports.  
Suddenly, the voice in his mind was his father, if you could call him that.  
Lonnie dragging him to countless sports games. Will just trying to make a connection with his nonexistent dad. The swearing, shouting, screaming between his mum and dad when they were behind closed doors. Hearing his father call him a fag. Calling him a fag, homo queer etc to his face. Holding back tears as the older man cursed for another son. One that was good at sport. One taller, manlier. One that wasn’t one of those fucking gays. One that wasn’t Will. 

Sharp breaths filled the room. Will’s mind getting heavier and heavier. Filling with more static the longer the memories/thoughts streamed into his brain. He needed to get out of his head. He needed to breathe. He needed Mike.

Instead of giving in to the desperate need deep in his chest for his best friend and nothing more, Will flung the covers off his legs. Pulling the closest blanket around his shoulders, sock-clad feet scrambled to find a path against the dark. His body ran on autopilot as he took the familiar route to the kitchen. Throat like sandpaper, Will snagged a cup from the kitchen counter and clasped it desperately with shaking hands. They were naturally shaky. It had nothing to do with the weak little crying session he had just then. Not that at all. Nah. 

The cool liquid quenched his throat’s thirst and helped to settle Will’s nerves. After hurriedly draining one cup, Will gasped, the air refilling his lungs. Now that he could think clearer, he rested his arms against the sink which made his body slump forward. It was late. He should be sleeping. But sleeping didn’t feel like a good thing to do right now. It would just be nightmares again… Will admitted in the back of his mind. 

A strained sigh dragged from his lips. Why did everything have to be so difficult? It was bad enough that he was called Zombie Boy, but now the insults his Dad and bullies had been calling him for years were true? Will wasn’t an idiot. With the number of swears in the direction of those people, he knew it was wrong. Before he had even understood the word he was addressed as Will thought it obvious that being gay was bad. Against the Lord. Disgusting. So why did he have to go and enjoy the way the young guy at the car shop had looked when he was covered in oil, sweat and fixing stuff with such intent?! He had known it was wrong! But he couldn't help but notice the way his muscles had rippled when he stretched or the defined jawline or his dark hazel eyes or-

It was disgusting. Will was disgusting. He knew it. His dad had known it. That’s why he left, wasn’t it? Because of his queer son. 

The soft patter of paws and claws against the linen tiles woke him from his thoughts. Will looked down to see the shaggy mop of fur sniffing gently at his calf and wagging its tail slowly. Getting onto his knees he held the softly panting face of Chester in his hands. Staring his dark eyes. Chester seemed content to interrupt the staring contest by licking Will’s nose repeatedly. 

“Eww! Chester, why?!” Will recoiled from his dog's saliva.

Chester did not respond. Merely sat and cocked his head gently at the boy.

“You can sleep in my bed then if you want to keep me company so badly,” Will muttered into the dirty blond fur he had drawn close to himself.  
Will stood up and lead the shaggy mutt into his room and lay down under the comforter. The weight of his dog against his legs and the gentle breathing that came with it lulled Will into a dreamlike state. 

With his last conscious thoughts, a boy around his age drifted into his mind. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin and a blinding smile. 

Mike


End file.
